From Here
by arysani
Summary: Sequel to "Better Left Unsaid"; post-ME2, Kaidan & femShep have to decide what comes next. Contains conversations hard to have, Cerberus's shiny toys, and TIM's silver tongue.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: While this one can stand on its own, it is meant to follow up "Better Left Unsaid". The "issue" in that one will be addressed in the fic following this one, "Ship My Body Home".

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all. Except the song lyrics. They belong to Joss Whedon.

* * *

_Where do we go…from here?_

_The battle's done, and we kind of won_

_So we sound our victory cheer._

_Where do we go from here?_

_Why is the path unclear?_

_When we know hope is near?_

_Understand we'll go hand-in-hand_

_But we'll walk alone in fear._

_Tell me – where do we go from here?_

Starting an email with "heard you made it back alive" sounded just as trite as the fumbles he had released out into the extranet months ago. That hadn't garnered any reply, but he'd satisfied himself with "well, saving the galaxy" - an excuse with a fair number of holes, since she'd been in contact with Admiral Hackett. He felt a little sick to his stomach that he'd challenged her loyalties, but Hackett, who was a company man so thoroughly that he bled Alliance blue, had carried on conversations with her and given her information and tasks inappropriate for a Cerberus operative. Hackett trusted her. For whatever reason, Hackett believed in her, when he'd been, at best, an absent clockmaker who only called on her when he needed something. Meanwhile, Kaidan, who had been her right hand for nearly a year, couldn't even get a one-line email back.

It made him wonder exactly how much he'd damaged whatever chances they might have had at reconciliation when he called her a traitor and insinuated she was nothing more than a Cerberus marionette.

To add insult to injury, a little cooperative information exchange (Cerberus puffing its chest, no doubt) had led him to believe that she hadn't been lying about being dead. Anderson had looked a little sick at that prospect - Kaidan believed that he too had been in the boat of "don't want to believe it but what else is there?". The Councilor had been downright stoic at the news of Shepard's demise, and Kaidan thought it unlikely the man had ever even considered her death "faked" when she appeared again; one more person who had been disappointed in her choices, but hadn't thought her a liar.

So it was just him. The one closest to her was the one that denied everything he knew of her and called her a liar to her face.

He tried to be as indifferent as possible, even though he was actually far from it.

_Shepard, I'm back on the Citadel. Look me up next time you're here. At the very least, I owe you an apology, and I'd like to deliver it in person. -Kaidan_

# # # # # # #

Her finger hovered over the delete button. Even though it made her stomach twist and her breath come short, she wanted to cut him out of her life. She was under no impression that her former team didn't have issues with her death and rebirth - with Tali it had been tears (there was something about her that always tugged at the barely visible emotional cords of her) and with Garrus it had been yelling. Then again, with Garrus it had also involved "what the hell do you think you were doing?" and no one had left without a few barbs that still stung. Still, they'd believed her, saved the galaxy for the next few minutes, and _then _had it out with her. Kaidan…had just walked away, not allowing her to explain herself. She had been so thrilled to see him alive that her tongue had not been as silver as it could have been, and she couldn't seem to say the right things. He'd cut her deeply, disbelieving her death, and instead implying that she'd been an undercover agent for Cerberus since the destruction of the _Normandy_ - as though she would fake her own death and fall completely out of contact.

The information Miranda had bestowed upon her only made her more reticent to see him again.

She'd been having dreams. Dreams of the sort she had promised herself, half-way through that bottle of liquor, that she would not permit herself to have. They were, at best, completely inappropriate. At worst, they ensured she woke up with her eyes sealed shut by dried tears for a life she could never have, and never even _considered_ until it was there and the choice was taken away.

If she had lived, she never would have kept it - frankly, she probably never would have even known, because she would've kept up on her medication and been none the wiser. But now she _knew_ and that...that was something she was having trouble dealing with. She kept telling herself she was focusing on the wrong thing - what she was really upset about was that she had never expected to live to be able to have those things.

She had fully expected to be killed in action and never have that option available to her.

But she was killed. And brought back. And while there were still fights left, she had taken a time-out and had _thoughts_ about what could be, and it was eating away at her.

# # # # # # #

_Shepard, there is a conversation we need to have. You know how to contact me._

Nothing had changed - she had given up Cerberus and the stigma that came with it, she had come back to the Council with enough documentation that she could not be denied; but they did not _want_ to face the truth, and so they did not. Again.

It was only a matter of time before The Illusive Man came calling.

"How's my ship?" Despite the way they'd parted last, his cavalier attitude was firmly in place once again. The House never loses.

"My ship is working well - fantastically, actually, with the AI unshackled," she took tiny satisfaction that his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"And the Alliance? They are supporting you completely in your efforts to address the Reaper threat and bring the galaxy together under one banner to fight the good fight?" That amused sarcasm drove her nuts. He was just playing, because clearly he knew the score.

"You know how it goes, sometimes you have to work outside the rules."

"I do know. It's a good thing rules are made to be broken."

"I know you didn't keep your quantum whatchamajiggy just to make chit-chat. What do you want?"

"Actually, I think I've already put forth my good faith token, and it's time for you to return the favor."

"And what would that be?" she snarked at him.

"You're standing in it," he replied flatly.

"Oh right. My ship. Thanks for that, by the way."

"You know, it was perhaps a little naive, on my part, to not anticipate that you would take the high road and then sass me about all I've given you. I know your records back to front, this was...not unexpected." She noted that he did not have a cigarette in his hand as was his custom - a part of her gloated that maybe he'd been too wired up to even smoke, considering the billions of credits that had floated away from him in the last couple of weeks.

"Cerberus's shady past and all the people I know you've hurt, and all the experiments I've destroyed? You had to know it was coming, Timmy."

"Funny," he replied with a slight tilt of his head. "And here I thought that bringing you back to life would have some bearing on your treatment of me."

"I appreciate all that you've done for me, but I just can't be a part of Cerberus."

"Are we going to discuss this like rational human beings?" He sounded surprised that she wasn't going to have a hissy fit and stomp her feet. Clearly he didn't know ieverything/i there was to know about her.

Shepard crossed her arms over her chest and jutted out one hip. "Now that you're not asking me to make split-second decisions while the clock is counting down to my imminent demise? Sure. I can talk. I have no reason to think that you don't know exactly where I am or have the capability to take this ship back. I'm laying my hand out. What do you want from me?"

"The same thing I have always wanted: your cooperation." His fingers twitched, like they were disused to not having a cigarette between them.

"I will not work for Cerberus again."

He let out a bark of laughter. "I though you weren't ever working for me, Shepard. I thought you were working 'with' me?"

"I'm tired of the intrigues. It's not my style. I was dependent on you while I got my feet back under me. I'm not going to deny that."

"Well then let me propose this: subcontract with Cerberus. Share with me the information I request, perform a task or two for me, and I will continue to fund you. Less than if you were working 'for' me, but I will make it worth your while."

"Why?"

"I still think we can do great things together, Shepard. I still think you are our greatest hope."

"Humanity's greatest hope, you mean."

"I make no mystery of my preference of humanity over other species. That is simply something you will have to get used to. I would like to ensure the survival of my people, just as any one of your team members would like to ensure their species survives as well. Few are as far-reaching as you, Shepard. Some of us are much more selfish."

She snorted lightly. "I'm going to share your experimental technology with the Alliance."

"You will not get a rise out of me again," he replied with a smile. "Feel free," he continued with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Consider it another token of my goodwill. Just keep in mind that I will collect on these favors someday, and you will be in no position to deny me the more you antagonize me now even as you take what I am offering."

"How do you know I will? Take what you're offering, I mean?"

"I am keenly aware of how limited your options are, and confident that my offer is the strongest. If you find someone else willing to give you free reign and financial support equal to, or greater than what I am offering, I would ask that you give me a chance to counteroffer." He paused. "But I know you won't. Think about it, won't you? Contact me when you've made your decision."

He terminated the link between them, completely self-assured that she would be calling him again.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all. Except the song lyrics. They belong to Joss Whedon.

* * *

_Kaidan – meet me on the Presidium. –Shepard_

She had torn the patches off the arms that bore the Cerberus logo, but the shades of grey (only just now did that strike her as funny when she realized how they adorned every Cerberus uniform) and orange piping were still a dead giveaway – if one knew what they were looking at. She sat with one leg crossed over the other, and tried not to check her omni for the time. Her foot bobbed with impatience. This was not a good idea.

"Shepard."

She hadn't even heard him approach – his soft footfalls blended in with the hum of the pedestrian traffic. She wondered if he'd looked for her, or if he'd come straight here – where there was no longer a monument to the mass relays, but instead a large plant sculpture. Avina offered no explanation to passersby as to why, unlike the other statues, this monument had not been rebuilt.

Looking up to see him standing there, at ease, hands behind his back, in his elegant dress blues, she tried not to wish she had never been a hero. Turns out that even the hardest of bitches (Miranda), the silliest of women (Chambers) and the most capable of engineers (Tali) read romance novels – and the ones about colonists falling in love and building new lives with little concern for the galaxy at large were quite the fad. She'd read one. Or two. She'd lost track. Either way, that too had seeped into her dreams, and the idea of she and Kaidan homesteading on a colony on the edge of Council space had plenty of allure. But that was a life that was never an option.

She let a small smile quirk up the corner of her mouth. "Kaidan. Have a seat."

He nodded, and stepped to her and seated himself on the bench. He did not lean back, as she was doing, and did not stretch his arm out over the back to touch her. He leaned forward, hands hanging between his knees.

"You know, I thought I'd come here, and you wouldn't be here." He didn't even open with a 'hello'.

"I think it's funny that they've put up a…what is that?"

"Topiary."

"No, what _is_ it?"

He narrowed his gaze and stared at it for a moment, and she looked over at him, brow furrowed in concentration, and tried not to feel affection for him – tried not to want to run her fingers into his hair and have him lean his face against her palm. She gripped her fingers in her lap, stilling the urge.

"I have no idea. Which could mean I just don't know what it is, or that whomever created it wasn't very good or had never seen what they were trying to mimic." He shrugged, and raised his gaze to her with a tilt of his head.

"Ah."

They were silent, contemplating exterior noise, other pedestrians, eavesdropping on conversations without even trying.

"I wanted to apologize," he began, eyes on his clasped hands hanging between his knees.

"I owe you one too, but I don't really know how to say it without couching it in passive aggressive accusations."

He let out a chuckle, and she smiled. "I suppose I deserve that. I don't know what to tell you, Shepard. I've said my peace. I believe you were dead, and I believe you owe Cerberus a hell of a lot. I owe them too," he added, more quietly. "But I don't know where that leaves us. Two years is a long time, and that's before you showed up and then disappeared again. Nearly three years now."

She fast-forwarded past the part where it hadn't been that long for her. It was no use. "I don't work for Cerberus anymore. But in exchange for keeping the ship, I'm going to owe them some favors."

Kaidan just nodded, taking in the information, and carefully not rendering an opinion.

"They've also offered me a new deal. I've met with Anderson and the Council…"

"I know."

"Then you know I'm back at square one, still a Spectre but without their support. I gave them hard evidence, but once again their sight is dismally short for such a collection of races with such long histories. They're happy I eliminated the Collector threat for now, but they fail to see the big picture. They still think the Reapers are a fantasy. I tell you, my fantasies had better include less giant mental termites or I'll kill myself right here on this squeaky-clean Presidium tile."

He let out another chuckle that spurred a smile from her, and she wished it wasn't so damn difficult.

"So what is this new deal?"

"Funding, mostly. Same thing I was doing for Hackett back in the day. I get to run my own agenda, without their logos on everything, tainting what chance I have of uniting the galaxy and convincing them of what's coming, and in exchange I run a few ops for them. The Illusive Man knows what I will and will not do for him, for Cerberus, and I think he still thinks he's got the upper hand, and so he's willing to pander to my whims. I think I'm smarter than he thinks I am. Or something like that. Unless he's got a finger fondling a kill switch in my grey matter, then he does actually have the upper hand," she finished dryly.

"I'm still on the same mission as before – except now with bonus propaganda," he sat up and blocked out the words like a marquee in front of them. "'Don't let the Collectors threaten your colony!'" He grimaced. "Alliance-funded defense systems in remote colonies, bringing them back into the fold, because now they're scared enough to let us."

"You sound a little disenchanted."

"I'm tired, Shepard."

She sighed. "You and me both."

They were silent again, and she didn't quite feel a frozen wasteland between them, but neither was she expecting much. Then again, it was more of a first step than she expected.

Which made it even more unexpected, when he reached for the hands on her lap with one of his own, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand, and watching himself do it, like he couldn't understand why he was touching her.

"I miss you," he said quietly.

She let a thumb wriggle out and touch him. "I miss you too."

"I don't know where this leaves us – just because we're technically on the same side now…"

"We were always on the same side," she injected.

"Whatever the case may be, I can't come with you, and you can't stay here. I tried so hard to have a life. I can't keep putting it off."

"Even for the good of the galaxy?"

"The galaxy will still be here, long after I'm gone. If nothing else, I've learned that someone will rebuild."

"How pessimistic of you."

"Realistic. Difference."

She untangled her hands from his, causing him to look up at her, finally meeting her eyes for the first time since he'd sat down for more than half a second. She stared at him, trying to sort him out, and he reached up to lay his hand against her cheek. She leaned into him, exactly like she'd wanted him to do for her, had she managed to touch him like this.

"Spend the night with me," she said, letting it slip out with her eyes close before she could stop the words, and her eyes snapped open. "I mean…"

"I can't. I can't…" he trailed off, and removed his hand from her face, standing. "I won't lie to you and tell you I didn't have…hopes after we survived the first time around. But we couldn't get it together for this reason and that reason, and…" he looked away, brow furrowed again. "I can't figure out how to make it work this time around, even if I could just…jump back into it. I'm not so sure that maybe we've had our chance."

Her eyes stung, but she was not going to let him see her cry. She nodded, still seated, and he looked down at her. "I'm sorry."

She was still nodding, a slow assent, because there was nothing else for her to do. "I'm sorry too."

He leaned in, and laid a kiss on her forehead, right on her hairline, and she closed her eyes. He swept a thumb across her cheekbone, and she clenched her teeth because she knew her body had betrayed her and he had wiped away the tear that had fallen.

There were no goodbyes, because that just seemed dramatic. Instead, he turned and walked away.

And she sat on the bench, staring out into the artificial light, listening to the chirps of birds and the hum of the people parade.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all. Except the song lyrics. They belong to Joss Whedon.

* * *

"I know you'd like to think you can strong-arm me into being a better man, Shepard, but it's not going to happen. Just as the galaxy needs heroes like you, so does it need the ones who can do the things no one else is willing to do to get the job done. The dirty things that no one talks about. It's a niche, and I find I am quite comfortable in it."

She smiled. "You had better hope I don't find any of your dirty little secrets."

"Wishing we had our own version of Justicars, Shepard? So you could traipse around righting wrongs like some intragalactic Robin Hood?"

"If I find them, I'm not going to turn my head."

"A shining example of truth and justice such as yourself? I would never expect you to let it go on," he replied with a wry smile.

She knew that one day she would find him, and she would have to decide how to make him pay for the blood on his hands. She just hoped it was after the Reapers had been dealt with, because she simply could not fight on two fronts. In the meantime, she had a strange feeling that despite the vast differences in their opinions, she had somehow come to respect The Illusive Man. Or maybe she was just learning him. He would be a formidable enemy the day she crossed him for the last time.

"You can't use EDI to track me anymore."

"Don't even pretend to be so naïve as that. You know that was merely the easiest way, and far from my only option."

"Then you'll have plenty of time to hide the toys you don't want me riddling with bullets."

He nodded in assent. "So you've decided to accept my offer?"

"You knew I would."

"I tried to make it seem like you had a choice. I'm learning that you don't like it when you don't have a choice."

"I don't. And this was my choice, even though you thought you had it in the bag. I could have always said 'fuck it' and run off to play homesteader on a remote colony somewhere – somewhere no one knew me and I wasn't the Savior of the Citadel or whatever inane thing they've named me this time."

"Yes, but your man Alenko can't just up and leave the Alliance."

She didn't even feint at ignorance. "You know that line we were talking about? Things which are and are not your business?"

"I do seem to recall you being quite sensitive on the subject of the biotic Staff Commander, yes."

"Continue to _recall_ that."

A smile quirked at his mouth. "You will find that the money for completing the repairs on the _Normandy_ has already been put in the right hands, and you will be able to leave your berth on the Citadel and take your merry men back out into the stars within the next week and a half."

"Greased a few palms, did you?"

"Credits talk, Shepard. Or hadn't you realized that?"

"I had."

"Yeoman Chambers and several of the crew of the _Normandy_ have returned to my flock, so you are a bit short-handed. Plus with your little quarian gone back to the Fleet and your drell staying on the Citadel…"

"I will find replacements."

"And tell Miranda that I would like to speak with her. She is ignoring me, and I think she would take it better from you."

"I doubt it."

"She's angry with me, but I know she'll get over it."

"With or without blackmail?"

"I doubt I will have to use that," he chided. "You will hear from me when I need something from you."

"Of that I am certain," she said, and gave him a lazy mock-salute which seemed to amuse him.

She stood in the briefing room and stepped back to the let the table rise out of the floor. She had no idea what to do next. Well, she did, in the grand scheme of things, but the little details could use some work. Time to ascertain if her XO was going to continue to serve in that capacity with the much decreased paycheck.

# # # # # #

Two nights later, she sat on her couch, bare feet on the coffee table, reading a datapad when her door chimed.

"EDI, who is it?"

"Staff Commander Alenko."

She jumped, banging her heel against the table and trying not to swear. She was dressed in loose pants she did her meditation exercises in (one could only be in the company of Thane and Samara for so long before one began asking questions about what the big deal was – turns out, it was more useful than she expected) and a tank top advertising Rodam Expeditions (sometimes it was good to be the Savior). With no time to do anything about her attire (and what the hell was she going to do? Look more professional at this time of night on her own ship? Dress sexy for a man whom she honestly hadn't expected to see ever again?), she walked to the door and waved her hand over the sensor.

The door slid open to reveal him in his dress blues again. He looked awfully sharp, and she denied that tightness in her chest.

"Commander. I wasn't aware you were permitted to board."

He gave her a small smile. "When you recruit people out from under me, they still can't help saluting. Eases the way a bit."

"I didn't take anyone you were really attached to – otherwise I suspect they would never have been allowed to leave."

"True. May I…come in?"

"Oh. Right," she stood aside and waved her hand, beckoning him over the threshold. The door hissed shut behind him, and she watched him take in her much more lavish quarters.

"Bit bigger than the last digs."

"Yeah."

"And a fish tank. Wow."

"If I could keep fish alive in it, it would be much more impressive. EDI says I'm welcome to enlist her help in setting up a routine to regularly open the feeding trays, but if I don't put food in them in the first place, kind of defeats the purpose."

"Ah."

"She said I wasn't allowed to have a puppy until I could keep fish alive for seven consecutive months. Seems kind of arbitrary, but…"

"A puppy?"

"Guy I know on Tuchanka has a prize fighting varren that he's going to breed. He's going to give me one of the pups."

Kaidan snorted. "Guy you know on Tuchanka. Wow."

She shrugged. "Guy I know. On Tuchanka."

"How is Wrex, anyways?"

"Trying to be king of the krogan. Mixed results," she said, catching herself in the partial sentences she'd clearly picked up from her salarian scientist – it made her smile.

"So before this conversation can become anymore strange, I'd like to say that I came here to apologize. Again."

"I don't know if I can take another apology from you, Kaidan. It's like perpetuating a bad habit. Sometimes you've just got to own up to your shit and stop acting like you're hurting everyone's feelings all the time."

He raised his eyebrows, and took in her defensive body language: arms crossed over her chest, back straight, the distance between them. "Ouch."

"Sorry," she mumbled, and her eyes were now on the empty fish tank, her cheek pressed against her own shoulder.

He opened his mouth to reply, but she interjected. "I just need another heartbreaking conversation with you like I need a hole in the head, you know?" She paused, looking at him, emotions like hurt and confusion spread across her face in ways he'd never seen before. She was usually so contained, but maybe she was just too tired to keep it in anymore. "Just say what you think you need to get off your chest, and let me go."

"That's the problem," he said, and took a step closer to her, holding her gaze like he hadn't been able to do for more than a moment back on that bench in the Presidium. "I can't let you go."

"Could you please be a little more overdramatic?" she asked dryly, eyeing him with a certain amount of suspicion.

"I'm sorry," he said, backing off a little, his voice sharper. "Do my feelings offend you?"

She let out an exasperated sigh, unfolding her arms and turning to step down the shallow stairs towards the bed. She paced a moment and then turned to face him from in the little recessed area. "I just can't do this again. I can't do another round of 'I don't know, maybe' or let you come in here, and tell me all these heart-fuzzy things and then decide you can't follow through. You said you wanted a life, and I couldn't be a part of it, so _why_ are you _here_?"

"I was getting to that, if you'd let me finish my thought." She waved a hand dismissively at him, and he ignored everything about the gesture except that it was her telling him to continue. "I tried for two years to let you go, and when you showed up again, I told you, it…threw me. This time, I thought I had a choice in letting you go. I thought that if I said to you that I couldn't do this, if I was instrumental in cutting those ties that it would be easier, and I _could_ move on. But it wasn't. I haven't been able to sleep for the last two nights because all I can think about is you. All I can think about is how I'm probably throwing away my chance at anything resembling that life I wanted, but if I let you go again, to disappear out into the far reaches, I will regret it for the rest of my life."

He watched her from the landing above the stairs – watched her bite her lip.

"I'm still leaving and you're still heading off in the opposite direction. I've still got work to do, and you're still working for the Alliance. Nothing has changed, Kaidan. You made the best points one could make when pointing out why we can't be together, why we can't work."

"I laid out why we can't be together all the time, but I never said why we couldn't work. I never said, because there is no reason. You are not my direct superior, I'm not taking orders from you, nor is it likely I ever will again…" he stepped down the stairs, and still stood more than an arm's length from her, but at least they were both on the same level. Physically.

"Unless the Reapers show and I'm in charge again."

"Unless the Reapers show and you're in charge again," he let the corner of his mouth quirk briefly. "So I'm letting regs go hang because you're only vaguely in my chain of command anyway. My other hang-up was Cerberus, and their logo has been scraped off your hull, even though they're still lining your bank accounts, and I can't take the high road and say I completely blame you because I can see you're getting stonewalled again, just like last time and the time before. I'm not saying I would have made the same choices, but…" he trailed off, unwilling or unable to keep beating her up for her association with the same group they had spent so much of their time destroying. "So what's left?"

"You're going one way, I'm going another."

"The galaxy isn't that big. I'm sure we can arrange to bump into each other," he said, his voice slightly amused and dropping in volume so she had to step closer to him to hear him clearly. (Okay, that was a lie. Her hearing was fantastic.)

"So that's what you want from this? A casual bump-into-each-other-when-we-can?"

"Nothing casual about it." He'd moved closer to her, and reached out to put his hand on her waist and draw her closer.

"And then what?"

"Fight the Reapers. Save the galaxy. Live happily ever after?" he smiled, and she couldn't help but return it. She loved his smile, and fuck that was cheesy, but it was true.

"It doesn't end there. If I survive the Reapers a third time, The Illusive Man and I have a date with destiny. And probably a pistol."

"I didn't really expect a 'ride off into the sunset' conclusion. I'm frankly surprised you let me get away with 'happily ever after'", he said, his voice even softer. He slid one hand under her ear, around the back of her head and began to lean towards her. "I want whatever you can give me."

Her eyes darted from his lips to his eyes, trying to read him, caught in his embrace. This was seriously screwed up. But she wanted it anyway. Her gaze lingered long enough on his lips to prompt him to lean in that last couple of inches and kiss her.

It was just as she remembered, but somehow better.

She let his tongue into her mouth, and wound her arms around his neck, and decided that no matter what came next, she was going to let herself be happy with how it was starting out.

_When does the end appear?_

_When do the trumpets cheer?_

_The curtains close on a kiss, god knows_

_We can tell the end is near._

_Where do we go…from here?_

FIN


End file.
